


Heiro's Other Earrings

by sandrilene



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: Earrings, Eugenides isn't the only one with an earring problem, F/F, Heiro - Freeform, Heiro/Ileia - Freeform, Phresine - Freeform, Queen's Thief
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:08:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28142877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandrilene/pseuds/sandrilene
Summary: When Phresine discovers why Heiro has turned up where she shouldn't, Phresine takes matters into her own hands.
Relationships: Eugenides & Heiro (Queen's Thief), Heiro & Phresine (Queen's Thief), Heiro/Ileia
Comments: 10
Kudos: 21
Collections: Yuletide 2020





	Heiro's Other Earrings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MadameHardy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MadameHardy/gifts).



> Thank you to MadameHardy for such a thoughtful, kind, and lovely Yuletide prompt and letter!

Phresine might not have said she liked Heiro, but she approved of her, and Phresine’s esteem was harder to earn than her affection. The girl had endured a great deal when her father attempted to arrange a mistress for the king. Phresine could not imagine a person who might cause the king’s devotion to her queen to sway, and she held respect for those who recognized that fact. Heiro had known it sooner than most, and Phresine found their ensuing friendship sweet. Gods knew the king needed more people who saw him.

Respect her she might, but Phresine spent too much of her time on her feet for a woman of her age, and she had withdrawn to this side chamber seeking a brief moment of solitude and rest. She was not happy to find it occupied, and certainly not happy to see someone who was not an attendant of the queen here.

Heiro looked no more pleased than Phresine felt, but she leapt to her feet, earrings and bracelets chiming softly. She stowed away a small wooden box as she stood. “Hello, Phresine,” she said. “I was not expecting you.”

“Indeed.” Phresine let Heiro stew in the awkward silence that followed for a moment.

“Well,” the girl said. “You must be searching for some time alone, so sorry to interrupt, I’m sure I will see you this evening, Phresine.”

“Goodbye now.” Phresine helped herself to the chair Heiro vacated. As Heiro shut the door, Phresine leaned back and produced her needlework from its basket below, considering.

This chamber was adjacent to the queen’s quarters, used mostly by her attendants for storage and the inevitable need for a moment to oneself. To enter, Heiro would have passed the guards, gone through the outskirts of the receiving room, and slipped inside. Heiro’s friendship did not extend to the queen, who, Phresine believed, she wisely feared. If Heiro meant to meet with the king, Attolia’s quarters would be a more subtle choice than Eugenides’s, but surely the queen would have arranged for the way to be cleared.

Phresine heard footsteps outside, and appeared appropriately engrossed in her work when the door opened. “Oh!” said Ileia.

Phresine raised an eyebrow. “Hello, dear.”

“Pardon, Phresine, I didn’t realize you were here.” Ileia stepped back hastily, nearly tripping on her skirts as she closed the door.

Phresine waited until Ileia left before letting the smile spread across her face.

Heiro had waited months to wear this gown--golden linen, exquisitely draped, with delicate midnight blue beaded embroidery at the hem and neckline. She had thought the king might appreciate it, as well as the earrings, thin linked disks of hammered gold long enough to gently brush her shoulders, though he was not her primary audience for this particular display of splendor.

Heiro loved dancing with the king, especially now that no one could beat her for doing so. He had excellent taste in plays and in earrings, he always made her laugh, and to her great satisfaction, she always made him laugh. Despite being a man who brought empires to their knees, he was a wonderful friend, though she didn’t get to see him as often as she might have liked. He was, after all, king.

He noticed, of course, her distraction. “Heiro,” he said. “I do believe you owe me an apology.”

“Your Royal Majesty has only to command me. I’m sure my apology will sound utterly sincere.”

He pouted. “You haven’t wished me a happy birthday.”

“Of course I have.”

“Not once. And I had to practically drag you out to dance. Don’t say you’re afraid of my wife, she’ll only have your head if I say so. I hope.”

Heiro was unpleasantly taken aback. She was sure she had mentioned the king’s birthday. “I’m genuinely sorry, My King.”

He waved his hand elegantly. “Already forgotten. Provided...?”

Heiro smiled. “Happy birthday, My King. I hope you enjoy your gifts.”

“You will be hard pressed to match the last gift you gave to me. Have I told you how very much I appreciated it?”

“You have, Your Majesty, and you may continue to do so.”

Attolis smiled back at her. He was still faultless in the steps of the dance as they spoke, his wooden hand pressed to her waist. He spun her out as the musicians played their final notes and bowed to her. She curtsied back deeply and unwaveringly, enjoying the whisper of her gown as she did.

The next dance was a women’s dance--a complicated one, where partners were changed at regular intervals. Heiro took her place in the initial line and was delighted when Ileia stepped up across from her.

The queen’s attendants did not wear a uniform, but they all dressed to compliment Her Majesty. Fortunately for her, Ileia looked absolutely stunning in the garnet red she and Attolia wore this evening. Her gloriously curly hair was pinned up, tendrils artfully escaping along her neck, and her earrings were sinuous copper snakes.

“Ileia!” she said. “Your earrings are marvelous. Who made them?”

To Heiro’s delight, Ileia’s cheeks pinked, and she smiled. “Thank you, Heiro. She’s a foreign smith, Kisubo, an absolute magician with gold. I’ll take you to her forge sometime.”

“I would love that.”

Ileia spun under her arm and danced away. They would reunite down the line. Heiro willed the musicians to play faster and found herself face to face with Phresine, in staid pearl earrings and a simple gown, who gave her an altogether too knowing smile. Heiro was a bit unsettled. Phresine didn’t usually dance.

“Hello, dear,” the old lady said. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Quite,” said Heiro. “Thank you, Phresine. And you?”

“Immensely. Did I see you conversing with Ileia just now?”

“Yes. She’s--”

“Wonderful? Beautiful? Clever and kind? Forgive an old woman for being so blunt. When death is just around the corner, there’s no point in wasting time, is there?”

Phresine whirled away, leaving Heiro uncharacteristically speechless. She missed two steps in the dance, and Chloe, her next partner, frowned. “Distracted?” she said.

“Phresine is a wicked old witch, don’t take her personally.”

“I--not at all, she’s just--perceptive.”

“Hm.”

Chloe said nothing else for the rest of their steps together. Next, the dancers moved back, and Heiro made sure a bland, pleasant expression was pasted on her face for Phresine, whose own smile was more impish than wicked. “Don’t worry, dear,” she said.

“I don’t recommend trying to meet in the queen’s own chambers, no matter how discreet you think you are. Fortunately for you, I’ve a weakness for young love, and I’m fond of Ileia.”

Heiro opened her mouth to deny it, and instead said, “Thank you.”

Phresine’s eyes sparkled with approval. “Ileia has a balcony.”

“That’s--that sounds very nice, I do love architecture.”

Phresine laughed. Heiro had to admit, it was a bit of a cackle. “She retires early. She doesn’t seem to have the stamina for a ball like this.”

“Do you?”

“Heiro dear, I’ve been attending to my queen since she was crowned. I certainly hope I can stay up past your bedtime.”

Heiro tilted her head. The steps of the dance were about to take her back to Ileia, but she was curious. “How did you come to be the queen’s attendant?”

Phresine chuckled. “I’ll see you in a bit, dear,” she said, and whirled away.

Heiro, distracted, was still glancing away when Ileia slipped an arm around her waist, sending a shiver through her. She was so close so suddenly, and she smiled brilliantly into Heiro’s eyes. Heiro, once again, had no idea what to say.

Phresine found her again after she had finished dancing and begun searching for an excuse to leave. She approached quietly, and clinked her cup of wine against Heiro’s. 

“Does she know how you feel?” she asked.

Heiro glanced around. No one seemed to be listening to them. Ileia was dancing again. 

“No,” she said.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. No? Yes! I don’t know!”

“A sapphist if ever I saw one, and I’ve seen more than my share.”

Heiro choked on her wine. Phresine patted her back. “There there, dear, I’m having more fun with this than I ought. Come with me.”

Phresine led her from the ballroom. Heiro glanced over her shoulder as she left. The king caught her eye briefly and raised an eyebrow. She shrugged. Attolia touched his arm, and he leaned over to listen to her.

Heiro followed Phresine into the gardens, where Phresine stopped and breathed deeply.  
“It is a wonderful garden,” Heiro said, desperate for something to fill the silence, for some hint as to what Phresine was trying to tell her.

“Indeed.”

She waited a moment, then decided to take a page from Phresine’s own book. “Phresine, how did you come to be the queen’s attendant?”

Phresine turned her face from the sky. “When my queen took the throne, it was not expected by my family that she would hold it long. When they were asked to send an attendant, they chose me. It was a somewhat deliberate insult, but an aging barren aunt who refused to marry was as disposable an offering as they were willing to make. My choices were limited, and this was the best.”

They walked in silence for a moment.

“Don’t feel sorry for me,” Phresine said lightly. “My barrenness helped me avoid a marriage I would have loathed. Attending the queen has never once been boring. And dear, I do mean it when I say I’ve known my share of sapphists.” And she winked.

Heiro found herself blushing. “I believe you,” she said finally. “Ileia speaks highly of you. She says the queen depends on you.”

Phresine smiled. “I don’t know if I would go that far, but my loyalty is as strong as such things come. And she knows I think she chose her husband well.”

“She did.”

“She did,” Phresine echoed. Her smile broadened into a grin. “As I said, I’ve a weakness for young love.”

They walked on through the orange trees. Phresine pointed up at the palace. “There,” she said. “That one is Ileia’s. And look! There she is! Now go!”

There, indeed, was Ileia, leaning on her balcony, lit from behind by the lamp in her room. She reached up to unpin her hair. Heiro tried not to stare. “What do you mean, now go?”

“Go on! There’s your chance!” Phresine made a shooing motion with her hands.

“What! It must be twenty feet up!”

“Where would your king be if he said such things, hm? What did he do when his wife needed talking to?”

“I am not kidnapping Ileia! And I wasn’t trained from the cradle to climb walls!”

“There’s a trellis, you’ll be fine.”

“Do you have any idea how much this gown cost?”

Phresine took Heiro’s hands in hers. “Heiro. My dear, and I mean that sincerely. Sometimes you must wait. Sometimes you must listen. And sometimes you must climb a trellis in the middle of the night in a beautiful gown if you want your life to change.” She reached into a pocket and pressed a small wooden box into Heiro’s hands.

“Where did you get this?”

“From the drawer in your room where you left it, quite naturally. Go give it to her before your king sees them and takes a shine to them.”

Phresine turned and began walking away. Heiro stared after her, set her jaw, and made for the trellis.

It was harder than it looked, and she was sure she snagged the dress at least twice. “My king doesn’t do this in gowns,” she muttered. “He never has to muss his clothes, and someone else fixes it when he does.”

About halfway up, Ileia leaned over the edge and saw her. “Heiro! What are you doing?”

“Climbing! Poorly. Was this a terrible idea? Should I leave?”

“No, no, just, be careful!” Ileia reached down to help her up and onto the balcony.

“Did I ruin my dress?” Heiro couldn’t help but ask, inspecting the skirt for snags.

Ileia giggled. “You would think of that.”

“It’s a very nice dress!”

“It is. Did you climb my balcony in the middle of the night in this very nice dress to tell me about it?”

“Um. No.” She pulled the earring box out of her pocket. “I came to bring you the gift that I was going to give you earlier. And--just to see you. Alone. Although Phresine says I shouldn’t meet you in the queen’s chambers again.”

Ileia, who had smiled eagerly when she saw the box, winced. “Yes, she mentioned that to me too.” She took the box from Heiro and opened it.

The earrings were delicate little patinaed bronze olive branches, with dark freshwater pearls for the fruit. Ileia gasped. Heiro was delighted. “Oh, Heiro!”

Ileia reached out and kissed Heiro’s cheek.

Sometimes, you have to climb a trellis.

Heiro ducked her head and kissed Ileia on the mouth, and Ileia wrapped her arms around her neck.

It would distract from the moment, and it would be very undignified, for Phresine to cheer. So she did so only silently and privately. She walked home slowly, enjoying the cool night air and scent of the orange blossoms.


End file.
